


Samhaine, Redux

by sunstarunicorn



Series: Magical Flashpoint Side Stories [7]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Flashpoint (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Justice League International (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Buffy Halloween Spell, Gen, Halloween Round Two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunstarunicorn/pseuds/sunstarunicorn
Summary: Last year, Team One – and their families – dressed up as Avengers League International.  To the dismay of everyone except Spike and Greg’s kids, they were such a hit that Mayor Dickerson’s invited them back again this year.  Here’s hoping this year goes a little smoother.  A Magical Flashpoint Side Story





	1. Invitation From the Mayor

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the Magical Flashpoint Side Story series. It follows “Between Phoenix Flames” and comes before “Trial By Fire”.
> 
> Since I had so much fun with “Samhaine”, I decided to go for round two (and probably more for every Halloween I can get away with). Hey, gotta have my geek-outs somewhere!
> 
> Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own _Flashpoint_ , _Harry Potter_ , _Narnia_ , or _Merlin_. I also do not own the Avengers or Justice League International.

On the Monday two weeks before Halloween, Greg Parker was just settling down to another morning’s worth of paperwork. Thankfully, the day’s paperwork was much less than usual, owing to a slower than normal week for Team One. The Sergeant shook his head to himself, musing on the looks he’d get from his team when he showed up earlier than usual for the day’s workout.

Greg was also grateful that, unlike the year before, his _nipotes_ seemed to be content with the current plan for them to go trick-or-treating with the Wordsworth girls, Clark Lane, and the two mothers on Halloween. After the _last_ Halloween, which had ‘officially’ been off, Team One was anticipating being on-duty, thus the arrangements for all of the team’s kids to club up for the holiday. Lance and Alanna were planning on reprising their costumes from the year before, the three Wordsworth girls had set their hearts on the latest and greatest in Disney princesses, though little Ally wanted to go as Tinkerbelle, and, last he’d heard, Clark was debating between his Blue Beetle costume and Indiana Jones.

The minutes ticked by quietly as Greg worked his way through the stack of papers and reports; he sighed in relief when it was done. He understood the paperwork part of his job, but that didn’t mean he liked it, so it was nice to have it done, if just for one day. The Sergeant hefted the stack and took it out to Kira, planning on shifting to the workout room for the rest of the morning unless they got a call out. No major warrants were on the schedule, meaning Team One was free to do as they liked for the day.

“Hey, Boss,” Ed remarked, joining Greg at Kira’s desk. “Get that done already?”

“Yep, now where’s your stuff?” Greg teased his team leader.

Ed shrugged; he avoided the paperwork as much as he could, but somehow always got it done in spite of his preference for the practical parts of their job. “Soph wants to know what time the kids get out of school on Halloween.”

Greg mused for an instant, running through their school schedule in his head. “I think they’re out about 1530 or so, but I’ll double check tonight and let you know tomorrow, okay?”

“Copy that,” Ed agreed. “We got time.” He cocked his head to the side. “Do they have anything going on at the school for Halloween?”

His reward was a roll of the eyes. Dropping his voice down, Greg informed his team leader, “I heard something about ‘Harry Potter Day’ and a big celebration since this year marks ten years since the Second War ended. The kids _really_ aren’t interested in going.”

Ed nodded at the emphasis, but tilted his head to the side. “The war ended on Halloween?”

“First one did, remember?” Greg countered. “My guess, they’re celebrating the end of both wars on the same day.” With a shrug of his own, Greg added in a slightly louder tone, “Besides, their classmates probably wouldn’t appreciate their costumes all that much.”

At that, Ed snickered. “No superheroes in the magical world, eh? No wonder they like ‘em so much.”

Greg choked on his own laughter; after their initial adjustment, the kids hadn’t just settled in, they’d pretty much thrown themselves into learning and enjoying as much as they could about and in the tech world. “Well, good for them, as long as they don’t drag me into Halloween again this year,” he decided. “I’m heading for the workout room, Eddie. Get that paperwork done while we’re slow.”

Ed tossed his Sergeant a mock salute, inwardly acknowledging that Greg had a point about getting the paperwork done and out of the way while they had time to spare. Before either man could move away, Kira hung up her phone and turned with an apologetic look. “Sorry, Sarge, but Commander Holleran just asked me to send you in once you were done with the paperwork.”

The Sergeant blew out a breath. “Okay, Kira, I’ll go in and talk to him now, then. See you in a bit, Eddie.”

“Later, boss,” Ed called as Greg headed around the desk towards Holleran’s office. The team leader huffed as he reluctantly opted to detour to his own stack of paperwork.

* * * * *

Greg rapped on the open door, watching a moment as his superior looked up from his own stack of paperwork. “You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked, a touch worried. Team One hadn’t had any major incidents since the City Hall Sniper and their performance reviews hadn’t slipped at all, so why the sudden summons?

“Yes, I did, Sergeant Parker,” Commander Holleran agreed. “Come in and close the door.” As Greg obeyed, Holleran leaned back in his chair, absently playing with his pen. He waved Greg to the seat in front of his desk and waited until the Sergeant was seated to speak again. “The Mayor’s office has been in touch with me concerning His Honor’s annual Halloween party.”

Greg stiffened. “After last year?” he blurted in horrified dismay. “They want us _back_?”

Commander Holleran’s laugh was a trifle bitter. “Sergeant, last year put Mayor Dickerson’s Halloween party on the map. And that your team was able to take down those criminals while in costume? The Mayor’s people got _weeks_ of good publicity out of it and I spent most of those weeks fielding reporters who wanted to know where your team got your costumes.” Greg flushed bright red at that. “None of them were inclined to believe me when I said I didn’t know. I confess, I was more than a bit relieved when the next major incident came along and they disappeared to cover it.”

“I’m sorry, sir; I didn’t know we’d caused that much trouble for you.” He really hadn’t and now Parker was reconsidering letting his _nipotes_ reuse their costumes from last year.

Holleran waved the apology away. “Not your fault, Sergeant Parker. Unfortunately, all of that means that the Mayor’s office is, essentially, looking for a repeat performance.”

The Sergeant openly cringed at that. “They _want_ to put people in danger?” he questioned. “Do they have _any_ idea how bad last year could have been if the kids hadn’t pulled their insane, dangerous stunt?” A stunt he’d grounded them for and he knew Eddie had been _livid_ with Clark for going along with the two younger children’s plan to jump the Royal Flush Gang from behind.

“No, they don’t,” Commander Holleran replied, looking rather tired. “Or, if they do, they don’t care.” He sighed and tapped a small stack of what looked to be invitations that he’d just pulled out from his desk’s upper drawer. “In fact, they’ve _specifically_ invited your wards as well as Clark Lane this year.”

Another cringe from Greg. “What about the Wordsworth girls?”

“No specific invitation for them, so if the Wordsworths prefer to keep them away from this mess, that shouldn’t be an issue. No specific invitations for Sophie or Shelley either.”

That earned a deep frown. “So they’re cherry-picking who they want,” he observed.

“Yes,” Holleran confirmed. “Given what the Mayor’s office would _like_ to happen, my advice would be to leave the wives and the little girls home.”

“Then we should leave _all_ of the kids home,” Greg argued. “Asking us to bring our children to a dangerous situation is going too far.”

A moue of distaste. “We’ve no proof, Sergeant. Right now, it’s just a Halloween party; nothing to be worried or concerned about.”

“But sir,” Greg started. _He_ had no intention of risking his _nipotes_ just to satisfy a politician’s need for good publicity.

“I’m sorry, Parker, but if the children _aren’t_ there, the Mayor’s office will raise a hue and cry; they’ve even vaguely threatened to cut funding for the SRU.” Regretfully, Holleran passed the stack of invitations over to his Sergeant. “Go armed, Parker.”

“Copy that, sir,” Greg replied grimly. More than that, he was going to make sure his team _knew_ how to use their costumes _this_ year.

* * * * *

Parker waited until after the workout to drop the bombshell on his team; the delay gave him time to think through his initial strategy – and throttle his urge to march down to the Mayor’s office and tell the man _exactly_ what he thought of the idea to put _his_ and _Eddie’s_ kids in jeopardy just to score a few political points. The Sergeant’s negotiator mask was invaluable; he didn’t need his team cottoning onto any problems until he was ready to tell them.

But, as the team broke for lunch, Greg knew he’d have to tell them about their sudden Halloween plans. He waited patiently for lunch to be over, then called his team into the briefing room. In his hands were the invitations Holleran had given him, direct from the Mayor’s office. When the team was assembled, he drew in a deep breath and began. “I’m sure everyone except Sam remembers last year’s Halloween.”

Instant groans rose. “They’re not inviting us back again _this_ year, are they, Sarge?” Wordy asked, openly dismayed. “Shel, Soph, and the kids already have plans!”

“I know,” Greg acknowledged in a tired voice. “Shelley, Sophie, and your girls won’t have to change their plans, but my kids and Clark will. The Mayor’s office is specifically inviting us _and_ them. I hate to say this team, but _last_ year is a big part of this year’s invitation; Holleran told me flat out that the Mayor’s hoping for round two.”

“Wait, they want round two _and_ they want our kids involved?” Ed demanded sharply. “Are they insane?”

“Round two of what?” Sam questioned, looking rather confused as he glanced between his boss and his teammates.

“Superheroes versus supervillains,” Spike filled in glumly. “We can fill you in later, Samtastic, but it was a mess and we’re lucky no one got hurt.” He looked up at his boss. “That must be some big stick they’re using on Holleran to get him to agree to this.”

“It is,” Greg acknowledged. “I don’t like it team, no more than the rest of you, but as of right now, the SRU does not have the leverage to ignore the Mayor’s ‘request’. So, everyone’s going to go armed and,” he pinned his team with his gaze, “Everyone is going to know how to use their costume.” Glancing over at Jules, he moved on briskly. “Jules, since Shelley and Sophie won’t be coming, we can get you in a better costume than last year. Your choice on which one you want.”

Jules considered thoughtfully, well aware that by ‘better costume’ her boss _actually_ meant ‘better armed’. “Black Widow,” she decided. “It’s got those powered up taser wrist things, so it’s more effective and the costume gives me more room to maneuver.”

“Copy that,” Greg confirmed. “Everyone else stays the same?” He earned nods around the room.

“That include you, Boss?” Lou questioned, cocking his head to the side.

“Yes, for now,” Greg decided. “But I’ll have my vest under the business suit.” He looked over at Spike. “Figure out a costume for Sam. Has to be in the same theme as the rest of them.”

Spike’s eyes lit up and Sam shifted nervously at the gleam in his teammate’s eyes. “My costume?” As Spike’s gleam grew, Sam gulped. “Why do I think I’m going to end up regretting this?” he wondered aloud.

The bomb tech smirked. “Don’t worry, Samtastic; I’ve got the _perfect_ idea for your costume.”

“Which is?” Sam inquired, his wariness growing just as fast as Spike’s glee.

Spike’s grin grew wider. “You’ll see,” he teased.


	2. Mischief and Thunder

The wives, as expected, were _not_ pleased, but they _were_ mollified that they themselves didn’t have to attend, though Sophie nearly took Ed’s head off when she found out _Clark_ had to go. By the time Halloween arrived, all three kids had been briefed on how to handle the party. Namely, stay close to Team One and, if they _had_ to separate, for _any_ reason, from the adults, they were to _stay together_ at all times.

Greg and his _nipotes_ made a quick dash for Pierre’s Custom Robes and Samhaine Costumes in the magical mall to arrange for Sam’s costume as well as the needed accessories; fortunately, the costume was completed quickly enough that Greg’s plans for Team One to practice with their costumes weren’t disrupted. Of course, said practice turned out to be a bit of a mess…

* * * * *

Ed’s brief experience with Mister Miracle’s aero-discs stood him in good stead; _he_ at least managed to _stay_ in the air, unlike his fellow aerial teammates. Using Mister Miracle’s favored arsenal of tricks was a bit more of a problem.

“Ed, you almost hit me!” Jules yelped, ducking away as Ed’s latest stun grenade went wide of its target and bounced near Jules, who was practicing with her Widow Bites.

Before the stun grenade could go off, Spike and Lou hit it with near identical repulsor blasts, reducing the grenade to so much dust. “Well, at least we can aim,” Spike quipped as he tried to moderate his takeoff ability after the last three attempts ended with his Iron Man suit halfway through the nearest wall. The suit buzzed and lifted an inch or so off the ground. In Spike’s excitement at finally getting the hang of flying, he added too much power…and promptly smacked into the ceiling. As he came back down, Lou slid War Machine underneath and caught his friend. Their teammates cringed as the suits collided with a metallic screech.

“Easy there, Spike, we don’t need concussions on top of everything else,” the less-lethal specialist chided.

“Why did we think superhero costumes were a good idea?” Spike groaned, covering his faceplate with one gauntleted arm. “I have _no_ idea how Tony Stark does this…heck, I have no idea how _I_ did it last year.” He rolled off Lou and clambered back to his feet.

“At least you’ve _had_ some experience,” Sam complained as he tried, once again, to spin Mjolnir up to a speed that allowed for flight. For a few seconds, the hammer spun on its strap, then it snagged and Sam yelped as he was dragged downwards instead of upwards.

It turned out to be a fortunate mishap for, less than a second later, Wordy’s shield missed its target and bounced off the wall, spinning back and right over Sam’s head. “Sorry!” Wordy called as he raced after the shield. It rebounded off another wall and slammed into Wordy, taking the constable down with a startled yell. Naturally, he fell right into Jules’ path and the two of them ended up in a heap on the ground, moaning as they started to disentangled themselves from each other and the Captain America shield.

Greg groaned, burying his face in his hands and wondering if it was too late to tell Commander Holleran to forget the whole thing. Maybe they could just call in sick…

* * * * *

Mayor Dickerson was a touch put out that only those who’d gotten the invites had come…he’d rather hoped the lovely ladies, both adult and child, would come as well; ah, well, next time he’d have to be a bit more clear in his instructions. No matter. He swept over to Sergeant Parker…ah…no, Maxwell Coulson if he recalled correctly…to be introduced to the newest member of the team. “Mr. Coulson, am I correct?” he inquired.

Coulson gave him a slight smile – not the snake oil salesman smile of the year prior, but the smile of an SRU Sergeant assessing the situation. “Yes, Mr. Mayor,” he agreed. “I take it you’d like to be introduced to our newest member?”

“Quite so,” Mayor Dickerson agreed. “And I see most of the ladies decided to stay behind?”

The negotiator/manager’s smile grew fixed. “Prior plans for tonight,” he replied glibly. “You know how little girls can get.”

Hmmm…an excellent point, even if he _still_ regretted the ladies’ absence. “Of course, of course, I understand. Well, please convey my best wishes to them.”

With a brisk nod, Coulson led the Mayor to his newest team member. “Mr. Mayor, may I introduce Thor Odinson of Asgard?”

As with the other costumes, all of which the Mayor recognized from the year before, Thor’s was rich in detail. Unlike the character, he did not have long hair or a beard and mustache, but his costume more than made up for these minor lacks. A red cape swept from Thor’s shoulders and hung to his boots, the material flowing around his movements and somehow not hindering him in the slightest. He wore a silvery scaled shirt, with armor over his chest and shoulders that sported six metal circles that marched in two rows down his chest and surrounded a narrow diamond shape, right below an equally narrow triangle; the designs were graceful and flowing, the metal above a dark blue tunic. Around his waist, Thor had a deceptively simple metal belt that meshed perfectly with the rest of his outfit. A large hammer, sporting a wood with silver rings handle as well as a leather wrist strap, hung from the belt, ready for action. On both forearms, over the scaled shirt and padded with red cloth the same shade as his cape, were two vambraces, each silver with etching in the metal; Dickerson would have liked to look closer, but moved on. Thor’s leggings were the same dark blue as his tunic, with red stripes on them; they led right into a pair of knee-high boots of the same color, though the boots also sported gray metal accents that looked a bit like lightning bolts.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Odinson,” Dickerson remarked.

Thor shook the Mayor’s hand enthusiastically, his grin wide and open. “My thanks for your welcome,” he rumbled, though he tossed Coulson a bit of pleading look.

Dickerson, realizing that ‘Thor’ hadn’t had much time to practice his character, bit back a laugh. “Please, come in,” he said to the whole group. “I think you’ll find things are a bit quieter than last year.”

“I certainly hope so,” Coulson muttered under his breath.

As the heroes moved past, Dickerson frowned; perhaps it was just him, but it _looked_ like they were all _armed_. That might be a bit of an issue…

* * * * *

When Loki appeared, Team One had mingled enough with the crowd that he was able to slip in unobserved, which suited him _just_ fine. Truly, arranging this had been _quite_ the pain and he would _hate_ for his surprise to be sprung too early. No, no, no, that would not do at all. He slipped over to Dickerson, smirking at the man’s clear discomfort with his presence. “Well?” he demanded impatiently.

Sweating, Mayor Dickerson replied, “They’re all here, all the ones you insisted on; the rest had prior plans, so they aren’t here.”

Loki made a moue of disappointment. Pity…it would have been such _fun_ to play with all of them, but, really, having the ladies was just gravy; his true quarrel rested with the Muggle Team One and their two Mudblood brats. Oh, and the son of the Muggle team leader. “I see…” he mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “What can you tell me about them?”

“They have a new member,” Dickerson began at once, eager to please. “He’s dressed as Thor. One of their other members changed her costume from last year.”

“Changed her costume?” Loki asked sharply. If they had changed their costumes, his _entire_ surprise might be ruined.

A frantic nod. “She was dressed as Pepper Potts last year,” Dickerson explained. “This year she came as the Black Widow.”

“Intriguing, most intriguing,” Loki drawled, thinking over the information and scanning the crowd to spot the woman. “You’ve done well,” he decided after a few seconds of consideration.

“Then, you will…?”

A wave of the hand. “Patience, Mr. Mayor, patience,” Loki chided. “The fun is only just beginning. When I have had my fill, you will get what you desire and not before.”

With that, Loki swept his cloak around himself and strode away, angling for the mid-sized man on the other side of the room who was dressed as Thor Odinson. As he moved, he smirked to himself; this was turning into even _more_ fun than he’d first anticipated.

The self-proclaimed God of Mischief snatched up a drink and descended on his ‘brother’ with a superior expression of haughty disdain. “Brother,” he greeted, getting a confused look from the other man.

He restrained a laugh as his own costume was weighed, measured, and his tact understood. “Brother,” the other returned, confusion becoming amusement. It took an instant more, but then Thor asked, “How fare you?”

Excellent, most excellent, Loki decided, sipping his drink. The Muggle was making an effort to _be_ his character; it was a perfect base for his spell. “I fare as I always have, my brother,” he replied airily. “And yourself? Have you amassed new tales of your exploits?”

Thor sipped his own drink, his eyes giving away how unprepared he was to discuss his character. He finally settled on, “None that are fit for this gathering, I fear.”

“So,” Loki mused, “You have finally learned manners, I see.” He smiled to take most of the sting away. “Mother _will_ be pleased.” He shifted, eyeing the other man and restraining his _true_ amusement as the quickly hidden look of indignation on ‘Thor’s’ face. “Where are your usual companions?”

Another flicker of confusion, then his ‘brother’ went a bit off script, though he _did_ manage to stay in character. “They had other duties for this eve. I chose to accompany another group to this celebration.” The Muggle even, to Loki’s delight, offered a contrite look. “Had I known you were to come…”

Loki cut off the apology with a wave of his hand. “It is no matter, brother. I chose to keep my plans to myself and so have only myself to blame. But I have other matters to attend to, so I must farewell for now. We will speak again, have no fear.” With that, Loki swept away, laughing to himself. Glorious, it was going to be glorious. He strode right past the Mayor, ignoring the man’s crestfallen look as he realized Loki wasn’t done with his ‘fun’. What an appropriate _surprise_ the man would shortly receive…

In an inner room, apart from the festivities, the ritual had already been prepared; Loki drew his wand from its holster, smirking openly as he opened his left hand to reveal a small spark…the magical signature that marked _all_ of the Muggles’ costumes. He added it to his preparations, then moved to the center of the rite, bowing to the two faced statue of Janus before he began.

His wand flashed out, lighting the candles and letting the incense rise around him. When the level of power in the room had risen sufficiently, Loki began his incantation, emphasizing each phrase with a new swish of his wand. “ _Janus, evoco vestram animam. Exaudi meam causam. Carpe noctem pro consilio vestro. Veni, appare et nobis monstra quod est infinita potestas. Persona in corpus et sanguinem commutanda est. Vestra sancta praesentia concrescet viscera._ _Janus! Sume noctem!_ **(1)**”

A rush of magic filled the air, a rush that Loki gloried in before his smile turned wicked and he invoked his second spell with a sharp, “ _Obrigescunt omnes qui Janus reprobi_ **(2)**.”

* * * * *

In the main event hall, the first spell took effect with a subtle hum of power, right at the edge of hearing. Several of the guests stumbled, recovering almost instantly, but their stances were different, vibrating with tension and wariness. One of them acquired a puzzled look on his face, frowning and grimacing as the spell swept over him. Then, before any of the ten could react to their surroundings or situation, a new wave of magic slammed through the hall, leaving stone statues in its wake. Only the initially affected guests were spared, though they were, naturally, alarmed by the petrifications going on around them.

When it was done, the figures looked around and all of them wondered the exact same thing: What in the world just happened and how did I get here?

 

[1] Latin for ‘Janus, evoke your life. Hear my case. Seize the night for your advice. I came, shine forth, and to us the power of the monsters that it is infinite. It is time to change into the body and the blood of the person. Your holy presence consecrate tender. Janus! Take the night!’

[2] Latin for ‘Petrify all who Janus rejects’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve only described the new costume, because the other costume descriptions can be found in Samhaine, so for those who’ve read Samhaine, the descriptions would be the same and I think that would be a bit dull. The descriptions can be found in Chapter Three of Samhaine, along with a few notes on who, exactly, these characters are (for the lesser known characters). I won’t be doing the same guess who’s who for this story, especially since Samhaine’s last chapter is basically the cheat sheet, with the exception of Jules (and Sam, since he wasn’t in Samhaine). For Thor, I will say that I based his description on what he wore in the first Avengers movie, so, there’s your source material.
> 
> Credit to _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ for the Halloween spell.


	3. Leaguers and Avengers

Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, moved away from the statues and out into a clear area. It took only a brief glance around to identify several friendlies. “Status report!” he rapped out, his eyes narrowing and his shoulders bunching as he realized the statues looked like _real_ people.

Iron Man, followed closely by War Machine, kicked off from his initial landing spot and flew over, careful to avoid hitting any of the statues. “JARVIS is rebooting,” Stark remarked as he landed. “Should be online in a minute. Me ‘n’ Rhodey are fine, Cap. Once JARVIS is back up, I’ll run a quick check on the suit.”

Rhodey didn’t speak, but did toss his friend’s team leader a salute as he began running his own check on his equipment. Though Rhodey hadn’t often worked with the Avengers, the Avengers all knew the Air Force superhero and appreciated him as one of Stark’s few real friends.

Cap nodded as Hawkeye and Black Widow joined the group, checking over their weapons before tossing their team leader two thumbs up. “I’m fine, but I think Clint might have hit her head,” Black Widow remarked, glancing over at the unusually quiet sniper.

Clint shook her head in disagreement. “I’m fine, Nat,” the archer insisted. “Just got a bad feeling about all of this.”

“I think we’ve _all_ got a bad feeling about this, Clint,” Steve remarked, pulling off his mask and running a hand over his head; idly, he wondered when he’d cut it so darn short. “Anyone else here?” he asked, before breathing out a sigh of relief when he spotted Thor.

Thor strode over, his expression angry and his hand on Mjolnir’s handle. “All of this stinks of Loki, Captain,” he announced. “Though where my brother may have hidden himself, I do not know. I suggest we seek him out before he can cause further harm.”

Rogers inclined his head, acknowledging the advice as he surveyed his team with a worried expression. “No Banner?” he questioned.

His teammates looked around, only just now registering that Bruce Banner was nowhere in sight. Iron Man kicked off, getting above the eerily still statues and scanning in all directions. “Nothing,” he announced, coming back down. “Not even JARVIS can find him, but we’ve got another group of superheroes here, Cap. Don’t recognize any of ‘em though.”

* * * * *

“Booster!”

Booster Gold bit back a groan as he clutched his head. Hammers were pounding all around his inner skull and Beetle’s loud panicking was _not_ helping. “Maybe you could yell just a little louder, Beetle?” he jabbed as the mental pain started to ease. When he looked up, Beetle was hovering next to him, looking a lot _younger_ than Booster remembered him being. As a matter of fact, Booster _himself_ felt younger than he remembered being. Since when was he so _short_?

“Sorry,” Beetle apologized, resting one hand on Booster’s arm as he looked around. “Any idea where we are? Or where everyone else is?”

“According to Mother Box, we are in Toronto, Canada,” Mister Miracle announced, appearing just above the two Leaguers on his aero-discs and tapping at the box on his arm. “I’m not detecting any other members of the League, but Mother _is_ saying that Max is here. I haven’t spotted him yet, though. Mother is also picking up another group of heroes, but no one I recognized, I’m afraid.”

Booster’s spirits lifted at that. Max might be just their manager, but if _he_ was here, then the situation might not be _quite_ so bad; Max tended to avoid the actual _danger_ part of the Justice League. “Maybe I can help with spotting good ole Max,” he remarked, kicking off and joining Miracle in the air. Lifting his wrist, he spoke into the communicator integrated with his wrist launchers. “Skeets! Come on, buddy, talk to me…we’ve got to figure out what’s going on.”

“No need to shout, sir,” Skeets remarked, drawing all three Leaguers around to face the small football shaped flying robot. Three fins adorned the rear of the ‘football’, giving Skeets his ability to maneuver, regardless of his surroundings. “I have already located Mr. Lord; however, there does appear to be a bit of an issue…”

“What’s wrong?” Beetle demanded at once.

Skeets dropped lower to better include their one ground member. “Mr. Lord did not immediately react to his own name; my own identification is a bit…blurred, if you will…he appears to actually be two separate individuals.”

Trading worried looks, the three superheroes followed Skeets through the crowd of statues to find Maxwell Lord on his knees, with a pained look on his face. Booster felt a surge of fear for his friend, more intense than he’d expected, to be frank. And since when did he consider Max one of his friends? He skidded out of the air, landing right next to Max and gripped the other man’s arm without saying a word, wary of exasperating any potential headaches.

Max’s head came up, his brown eyes meeting Booster’s blue through his goggles. For an instant, Booster felt another sort of recognition bubbling just under the surface, then it faded. “Booster,” Max managed, through a clenched jaw and a pained expression.

“Max, you okay?” he asked for all three Leaguers, taking the lead without even thinking about it. His gaze shifted to Max’s suit and he frowned in confusion. “And why do you have a bullet-proof vest on?”

Max’s eyes flicked down, but he didn’t look surprised. “I’ve got a gun, too,” he admitted. “And, I think something weird is going on; I’m not just Max right now.”

“ ‘Not just Max’?” Scott questioned, landing on Max’s other side. “What does that mean?”

“And how’d we get here without the rest of the League?” Beetle chipped in, edging closer. All four heads came up and Skeets turned at the sound of footsteps.

* * * * *

Hawkeye frowned as she moved through the crowd of trapped civilians; something was wrong, something beyond just ending up in a strange location without any communication with SHIELD or Banner or anyone else. The answer danced at the tips of her fingers, but refused to slip into her grasp, leaving her frustrated and grimmer than usual. The markswoman ignored Widow’s worried glances to focus on their destination…the three mystery heroes Stark had spied from the air.

Then they broke into another small area free of statues and her gaze fell on a man she’d thought dead. Shock and guilt slammed into her, even as her eyes were drawn to one of the figures crouching next to her mentor and handler. Familiarity marked every _line_ of the gold and blue clad hero, but she’d never seen him before, she’d swear to that. “Coulson?” she breathed, turning back to the man she _did_ know.

Coulson looked to be in some pain, but when his brown eyes met her violet ones, he smiled. “Agent Barton,” he greeted simply.

Natasha flowed over, giving the two right next to Coulson a suspicious look. “Sir, it’s good to see you,” she remarked; Clint knew the assassin was holding back due to the three unknowns and smirked, just a bit, at Nat’s caution. Caution that, for some reason, she didn’t share; for some reason, she _trusted_ all three unknown heroes and even the small gold football-shaped robot hovering next to the gold and blue hero.

Cap took the lead as the golden hero and the green caped hero helped Coulson up. “Who are you three?” he asked them, caution and curiosity mixing in his voice.

The oldest and tallest of the three unknowns replied first. “I am Mister Miracle of Justice League International.”

The blue on darker blue hero waved briefly. “Call me Blue Beetle.”

Clint’s focus turned back to the tantalizingly familiar golden figure. “I’m Booster Gold,” he introduced himself. One hand waved to the small robot. “This is Skeets.”

“A pleasure to meet all of you,” Skeets remarked, bobbing in greeting.

Before Cap could start with his own introduction, Clint dove in. “I go by Hawkeye,” she drawled lazily, resisting the urge to lean against a nearby statue of a woman dancing.

She earned surprised looks from her entire team, before Cap coughed and stepped back in. “Captain America; I lead the Avengers.”

Stark put up his faceplate, eyeing the Justice League. “I’m Iron Man,” he introduced in a clipped voice; Clint noted that the billionaire did _not_ add the ‘Tony Stark’ part, as he usually would. Apparently, suspicion and distrust was the order of the evening. The billionaire gestured to Colonel Rhodes. “This is War Machine.”

“Black Widow,” Nat purred, though one hand dropped to where Clint knew a knife or two hid. Without glancing at her partner, Clint shifted so she was close enough to interfere with Natasha’s throwing arm. The Black Widow’s glare didn’t even phase the archer.

Even Thor, normally friendly and gregarious, was suspicious of the Justice League, for he offered up a rumbling, curt, “Thor of Asgard; God of Thunder.” His eyes shifted to Coulson and softened. “It is good to see you again, Son of Coul.”

The three League heroes cast their own suspicious looks at the Avengers; Clint felt a twinge, then noticed that Gold’s expression was more for show than in earnest. What was so _familiar_ about him? And _why_ did he feel like _family_?

“Let’s not start a fight here,” Coulson interjected hastily. “I’m not completely clear on what’s going on, but, as I was telling the Leaguers, I seem to be operating with two sets of memories.”

Thor’s hand rested on Mjolnir’s handle in an instant. “What have you done to the Son of Coul?” he boomed angrily at the three Leaguers.

“ _We_ didn’t do anything,” Blue Beetle retorted hotly. “We wouldn’t hurt Max!”

“A likely story,” Stark scoffed, shifting and bringing his repulsors up; they hummed and began to glow a threatening blue.

“That’s enough!” Coulson/Max barked, moving so he was squarely between the two teams as Miracle and Blue Beetle pulled what looked like their own weapons. “Fighting amongst ourselves isn’t going to help anyone; it certainly won’t help these civilians who _need our help_.”

“But they hurt you,” Black Widow protested, unwilling to drop the antagonism.

Right then, Clint’s world exploded in a brief, but very intense pain; violet flared around her, forming the image of a phoenix and she heard the bird’s indignant shriek in her mind. As she went down with an involuntary cry, she saw… _everything_.

* * * * *

_Family, family, family._ It was a constant thrum, right at the back of his mind whenever his vision drifted past the coiled, red haired archer. Booster shook his head, but, even as tension mounted, he couldn’t muster up the same wariness, the same antagonism that Scott and Ted seemed to feel. He _trusted_ all of the Avengers, implicitly and without reservation, no matter how snarky and hostile they were getting. And Hawkeye, she felt even closer to him than the rest, as close as his twin sister had been.

Then the pent-up feeling finally reached the tipping point and he went down with a cry as gold flooded the air around him and a gryphon snarled defiance in his head, even as it appeared in the midst of the golden light that flared from his entire body. And in the heart of the pain, in the center of the light, he saw… _everything_.

* * * * *

Maxwell Coulson; it felt right and wrong at the same time, as if someone had been trying to merge two worlds together in a single person. Max darted a few looks around as Booster and Mister Miracle helped him up, but his head still ached far too much for him to _think_. And he _needed_ to think, that much he knew; if he didn’t figure this out, two teams he trusted – and who trusted him in return – were going to end up at each other’s throats, wasting time they didn’t _have_ to waste.

As hostility ratcheted up and teetered on the very _brink_ of violence, Coulson threw himself in the center, trying to get them to back down and _listen_ , for goodness’ sake. Then Booster and Hawkeye went down with near identical cries of pain, light flaring from them and lighting up the room; the glow of magic illuminated the nearby statues and Max… _saw_.

“Halloween,” he whispered, going pale; he hardly noticed the swirl of magic curling around his shoulders and sinking in, didn’t notice his headache vanish as if it had never been. It made sense, it made _horrid_ sense, but who on _Earth_ could have set this up? And _why_? “It’s Halloween,” he repeated, louder this time as both sides stiffened in outrage at the perceived attack on their respective teammates.

Thor spun Mjolnir, lightning crackling around the hammer as he growled his fury; Stark’s faceplate dropped into place and he kicked off, aiming his repulsors in earnest. Black Widow had a truly _deadly_ expression on her face; put Clint in danger and she reacted, badly. Rhodes, Coulson knew, would back Stark to the hilt; War Machine’s weapons hummed as they spun up and Rogers’ shield was in his hand, ready to throw.

“Look around you,” Phil Coulson called, trying to get through the indignation and anger. “All of these people are in Halloween costumes! That means _we’re_ in Halloween costumes, too!”

On the opposite side, Skeets thrummed as the security ‘bot summoned his rarely used tactics and weapons in defense of his master. Beetle had his Beetle gun in hand, a snarl on the normally laid back hero’s face; threaten his best friend and this was always, always, _always_ the result. Scott was airborne and just waiting for the first move to counter, his eyes narrow under his mask.

“It’s Halloween!” Maxwell Lord yelled. “That’s what happened! Someone turned _us_ into the Leaguers _and_ the Avengers and then turned all _these_ people to _stone!_ Stop! We’re all on the _same side!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Justice League International, their memories, if you will, date to a point before Booster Gold left the League to join the Conglomerate (a corporately funded superhero team that briefly competed with Justice League International). I chose this period because it marks a time when Booster Gold and Mister Miracle were both on the same team (at least, a team that I’m familiar with), Maxwell Lord is still one of the good guys, and Blue Beetle didn’t have a heart condition (or a dead condition).
> 
> For the Avengers, their memories date to after the first Avengers movie.


	4. Assemble by Midnight

But none of the heroes were about to halt now; like a car crash, Max could see it start, as unstoppable as the laws of physics. He drew breath to yell again, as loud as he could, then gold and violet blazed from the two downed heroes, wrapping around their teammates and halting the conflict before it could begin; magical bonds froze all of the heroes in place, impervious to all the struggles the seven heroes and one security ‘bot put forth to get free.

Max swallowed hard as Clint and Booster pushed themselves up, both glowing with power: wild, untamed, defiant. “Enough,” Clint ordered, violet curling around her, blazing from her eyes, and making her hair fly out as if she was standing in the center of a wind storm. “We cannot fight each other, not if we hope to help those we are _sworn_ to protect.” Her voice was echoing, both young girl and mature woman at once.

“If we reach midnight and the spells are not broken, they will remain for all time,” Booster agreed, golden light dancing around him. His voice, too, was both young and mature at once; his irises were solid gold.

“Spells?” Thor demanded, straining even harder to break loose; lightning danced around him, but failed to affect the gold-hued magic holding him in place. “When I am free, you will regret your treachery, golden one.”

Booster turned, meeting Thor’s angry stare with unnatural calm. “ _My_ treachery, Son of Odin? I have done nothing, as Mjolnir herself will tell you.” The young man began to tremble with the force of the magic speaking through him. “No, Odinson,” he continued, his double voice shaking a bit, “one disguising himself as Loki, god of trickery and lies, cast these spells. One, as Maxwell Coulson has already surmised, to turn _all_ of us into our costumes, and one to turn these poor people to stone.” He shook his head. “I cannot hold for long, not with this spell pressing in on me, but please, hear me. We are _friends_ , not enemies. We should be standing together, standing united, not baying and tearing at each other’s throats.”

“My brother is right,” Clint agreed. “I cannot hold either; I do not have the magical reserves; but we _must not fight each other_. If we do, then we fall, as Loki intended us to from the start.”

“Why?” Coulson asked, desperate to know.

Violet and gold fixed on him; Clint spoke. “Revenge, for last All Hallow’s Eve, when we defeated him and his gang; when we _humiliated_ him, at least in _his_ eyes. He cannot abide defeat, particularly not at the hands of those without magic and those he sees as newly introduced to magic.”

Both heroes shuddered, sinking down as violet and gold dissipated, releasing their teammates. In seconds, the magic was gone, but the effects remained as the two teams eyed each other nervously, but with _much_ less hostility. A large part of that was thanks to the fact that Clint and Booster had, somehow, ended up next to each other, shoulder to shoulder as they leaned into each other to keep from falling on their faces.

Coulson moved first, kneeling next to the pair with a worried look on his face. Siblings, siblings wearing costumes from different teams…if they’d ended up _fighting_ … He shook the fear away; they _hadn’t_ , instead their magic had intervened to prevent disaster, but not without cost. The dazed expressions from both proved that, without a doubt.

“Talk to me,” he ordered softly, dropping his voice low enough to offer the illusion of privacy. “You two okay?”

Clint groaned without moving and her brother encircled her shoulders with his arm. “Just give us a minute?” he requested. “I think our magic had to fight through the Halloween spell to do that; we don’t have enough magical reserves to do that for long.”

One brow hiked. “Do you…remember?” Max questioned.

Twin head shakes. Clint gathered herself enough to speak. “I did, but as soon as the magic faded, the Halloween spell took over again.” She met Max’s eyes. “I know Booster’s my brother and that I can trust everyone here, but nothing more than that. Sorry.”

“No, you two did great,” Coulson countered. “I couldn’t stop the fight, but you _did_.” He pushed himself back up. “You two stay down as long as you need to.” Brown eyes narrowed and he turned to face the now sheepish Avengers and Leaguers. “Stark, how long until midnight?” he demanded.

Iron Man rocked, but accepted the reveal of his true identity with no more than a minor grumble. “JARVIS?”

Over the suit’s external speakers, JARVIS replied, “We currently have approximately three hours until midnight, local time.”

“Not much time,” Cap mused, his eyes darting between his own team and the Leaguers. “How many of you can fly?”

“Booster and myself,” Miracle replied, crossing his arms. “I shall guess that Iron Man, War Machine, and Thor are your flyers.”

Nods came from the Avenger flyers. Cap stepped forward, meeting Miracle partway. “I suggest we pair up; flyers with non-flyers, so no one gets grounded while we’re hunting for Loki.”

A considering nod. “That is reasonable,” Scott agreed. “Have you any ideas on who will be paired with whom?”

Skeets drifted forward. “I propose that the pairings be cross-team if possible,” the little ‘bot remarked. “That would be the most expedient method to ensure team cohesion and unity in our current situation.”

Cap scowled, clearly unhappy about the idea, but Coulson agreed with the ‘bot. “Captain, may I?” he requested, inwardly amused that his internal Captain America fan-boy routine had been cut off by Maxwell Lord’s cynicism and pragmatic attitude.

It took a minute, but then Max received a go-ahead gesture from both Scott and Steve. In the background, Booster and Clint pushed themselves up, though they still looked a touch unsteady. Beetle and Widow immediately moved to hover over their friends, concern writ large on their faces.

“Captain, if you could pair off with Scott…Mister Miracle,” he added at Steve’s confused expression. The two traded surprised looks, but obediently shifted to stand side-by-side. Turning towards the four grouped heroes, Max continued, “Booster, with Black Widow, please.” He ignored Natasha’s outraged expression at being paired with the flashy gold and blue hero. “Hawkeye, pair up with Thor.”

“You got it,” Hawkeye agreed, shifting to be next to Thor. Coulson didn’t bother to throttle his warning _Look_ at Thor, promising _dire_ consequences if Hawkeye was injured. The agent bestowed the same _Look_ on Natasha, on Booster’s behalf. The two siblings rolled their eyes; Max suspected they understood his reaction more than he did.

“Beetle, you’re with Stark,” Coulson continued on briskly. “Which leaves me with Colonel Rhodes.” Blue Beetle stalked over to Iron Man, unhappy to be separated from his best friend, but clearly resigned. Coulson shifted over to War Machine, eyeing the pairings and measuring them, as best he could, against his double memories.

“Charmingly to the point, as always, Agent Coulson,” Loki purred from above, drawing instant attention. “I do wonder, though, if your strategy will suffice for the nonce.” He ignored Thor’s growl and his immediate snatch at Mjolnir. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

Magic roared around them, rising and crashing down on each pair of heroes. Seconds later, Loki laughed as he surveyed the dance floor, littered with statues of Halloween goers dancing, but with no sign whatsoever of the Avengers or the Leaguers.


	5. This Makes Us a Team

Blue Beetle yelped as an alien… _thing_ …tried to take his head off. It looked like a cross between a dinosaur raptor, a zombie, and a cyborg. He leapt to the side, yanking his Beetle gun from his belt and firing it as soon as he brought it up. The _thing_ screeched as the blast of air threw it backwards. Seconds later, the _thing_ dropped as Iron Man hit it with his repulsors.

“You got anything better, Beetle Boy?” the armored superhero demanded. “Chitauri aren’t going to be impressed with that little toy of yours.”

Before Beetle could form a retort, a robotic voice announced, “No Man escapes the Manhunters!”

Iron Man went down as a blast hit him dead center of his back. Beetle groaned as he took in the robot; just like every other Manhunter he’d ever had the displeasure to see, it had a metal human face on a red robot head, eerie glowing green eyes, and a single minded robotic determination to accomplish its goal. Beetle threw himself into the air, flipping over a second Manhunter’s attack and kicking the first Manhunter into a chittering Chitauri trying to get at the downed Iron Man. Beetle grinned as his kick left him with enough momentum to push off a nearby wall and hurtle into the second Manhunter, his Beetle gun unleashing its flare right in the Manhunter’s face.

“Anytime now, Irons,” Beetle taunted as a third Chitauri launched itself at the two heroes.

“Down,” Iron Man ordered. Beetle dove to the side, smirking as a repulsor blast caught the Chitauri in mid-air. Iron Man rolled, delivering a second repulsor blast to a Manhunter trying to sneak up behind them. “JARVIS says we’re going this way, Beetled One!” Stark called as he got airborne and swept low enough for Beetle to leap up on his back. “That gun of yours have any _other_ settings?”

“Sure does,” Beetle confirmed, nailing a Chitauri with the laser function. “Now shut up and fly, Irons.”

* * * * *

Chitauri _and_ Manhunters, could this Halloween get any worse? Max Coulson was _very_ careful not to voice that thought aloud: they did _not_ need the great god Murphy sticking his nose in _now_. Instead, he pulled his gun, double-checking his weapon and chambering a round before opening fire on the Chitauri howling for his blood. Behind him, War Machine’s weapons roared as he lit up the Manhunters.

“No Man escapes the Manhunters!” another Manhunter snarled, leaping at Max.

“Who said anything about escaping?” Phil Coulson inquired calmly, shooting the Manhunter between the eyes and shoving a gibbering with fear Maxwell Lord down in his mind. Though the fear was understandable, since Max _had_ once been shot five times by an undercover Manhunter he’d trusted. “Rhodes, I recommend figuring out which way we’re going before we get overrun.”

“JARVIS is working on it, but right now, he’s split between me and Stark,” War Machine replied, mowing down an entire horde of Chitauri. “This place is a maze,” he added, glancing around.

“So I noticed,” Max snarked, rising to the fore again and taking a certain amount of pleasure in getting to shoot back _this_ time. “Loki must be trying to delay us though; Chitauri and Manhunters aren’t enough to kill us unless we get sloppy.”

“Run the clock,” Rhodes mused. “You sure those Leaguers are up to scratch?”

“Yes.” Not an ounce of doubt. “The Chitauri are from the Avenger world, if you will; the Manhunters are from the League’s world. And considering the Manhunters came within seconds of blowing up the entire _planet_ , only to be stopped by a member of the Justice League, I’d say the League can handle them.”

“How’d they get stopped if they came that close?”

“Booster. He was blackmailed into working with them, but he drew the line at destroying the Earth. When one of them went to activate the bomb they’d somehow smuggled to the Earth’s core, he turned on them and kept them away from the switch.” Max grimaced at the incredulous look he could ‘see’, even below War Machine’s impassive faceplate. “He’s a good guy, Rhodes. I’d trust him with my life, just not my wallet.”

Rhodes considered that as he helped finish off the immediately visible Manhunters; the Chitauri had already been dealt with. “I guess everyone’s got a past and stuff they regret,” he finally decided. “JARVIS has got our direction,” he added, pointing to a fork Max hadn’t noticed until just then. “Let’s go.”

* * * * *

Between Thor’s lightning and Hawkeye’s arrows, neither the Chitauri nor the Manhunters were able to even get _close_ to the two heroes. Hawkeye refrained from using her trick arrows, at least for the moment. Conserving her ammo for later was _far_ more important. Besides, it was oh-so- _satisfying_ to watch the Manhunters and Chitauri fall to her usual arrows.

“The Golden One is your brother?” Thor inquired as the initial fighting ended.

Clint cocked her head at the other. “Yes,” she said simply, leaving out the more complicated details as she retrieved as many arrows as she could.

“Then why have we not met him before?”

So much for leaving ‘complicated’ out of it. “Thor, _we_ are costumes,” she started, following her inner sense of which way to go. “I _know_ that, even if a part of me doesn’t like it. He’s my brother – out of costume, I mean.”

Trailing along behind, Thor considered this. “You mean that he is your brother, regardless of your garb and memories?”

A nod, then Clint’s eyes narrowed. “This ‘Loki’, though? He’s just pretending to be Loki, Thor; he’s not _actually_ Loki, not in costume and not for real, either.”

“Your magic tells you this,” Thor rumbled. He smiled, just a bit, at the surprised look he got. “You forget, friend Hawk, that I have power of my own. It is not like Loki’s, but it is enough that I, too, can sense the magical kinship between you and the Golden One.” He looked around the maze, his brow furrowing. “Your magic also guides us here?”

“Yeah, I think it is,” Clint confirmed, taking another turn and grinning as she spotted a group of oblivious Manhunters. “Let’s have some fun.”

“Indeed,” Thor agreed, spinning Mjolnir. “It shall be fine sport.”

Thunder and lightning rained down on the Manhunters as Hawkeye unleashed her first explosive arrow of the evening.

* * * * *

For the first several minutes, Captain America and Mister Miracle did not talk; they were far too busy fighting to survive as Manhunters and Chitauri descended on them from both sides. Cap’s shield flew every which way, taking out Manhunters and Chitauri in equal measure as Miracle and his aero-discs took to the air and deployed every last trick in Scott Free’s considerable arsenal. As the wave of enemies began to ebb, Miracle flipped into the middle of a horde of Chitauri and took them down hand-to-hand, snarling as he backhanded one Chitauri into the path of a Manhunter aiming its weapon at Cap’s unguarded back.

“Down!” Cap yelled suddenly.

Scott threw himself down as the American superhero grabbed a Manhunter about to fire and forced it to aim at a cluster of Chitauri. Without an ounce of hesitation, Scott hurled a small explosive into the midst of the Chitauri as the Manhunter’s weapon continued to fire. The resulting explosion took out most of their remaining foes. Cap nodded approval as he wrenched one of the Manhunter’s arms behind its back and kicked, detaching the arm and the weapon it held from the robot.

“No Man escapes the Manhunt....zzzz,” the robot sizzled out, static marking each word before it trailed off.

“You okay?” Cap asked as Scott flipped back to his feet.

“Not a scratch,” Miracle reassured his counterpart as he took to the air again and carefully pulled the other hero up onto his aero-discs. “This may get a touch awkward, though.”

“I’ll deal,” Cap promised, scanning the maze. “Any ideas?”

“A few,” Scott replied, tapping Mother Box and nodding briefly at Mother’s reply. “Mother Box has a rough map of the area,” he announced, steering towards an opening to another section of the maze. “She recommends we work our way to the center.”

“It’s as good a place to start as any,” Cap agreed, his gaze thoughtful behind his mask.

* * * * *

Booster Gold was grateful for two things…well, more than that, but right now, two things: his force field belt and Skeets. Skeets was a thing of beauty as he swooped around two Chitauri, landing hits and making as much trouble as he could for the nearby Manhunters. And his force field belt meant that he and Black Widow hadn’t been annihilated in the first three seconds by the two groups of foes who’d been lying in wait for them. Booster drew in a breath, then nailed a Chitauri and a Manhunter simultaneously with his Booster Shots.

“Interesting defense,” Black Widow mused, pulling two handguns from her leg holsters. “Can that be used offensively?” she inquired as she opened fire, a cool expression on her face.

Booster shrugged. “Most of the time, no,” he admitted, eyeing one particular Manhunter, who was starting to remind him of the very late Red Rocket #7. Thank goodness the _other_ Red Rockets had shown up in nick of time that day…he still shuddered to think of how the day _could_ have ended.

As the Manhunter roared, “No Man escapes the Manhunters,” and raised its arm to launch a missile at the pair, Booster smirked and adjusted the settings on his equipment.

“Duck and cover,” he ordered Black Widow as he watched the Manhunter. She obeyed, watching in shock as the Manhunter fired and promptly blew up. A shimmering force field around the explosion gave away the cause.

“It blew itself up,” she realized. “You _can_ use that offensively.”

She earned another shrug. “Only when they’re that stupid,” Booster rejoined, adjusting his force field to catch another volley of shots from the enraged Chitauri. “Caught another Manhunter that way awhile back, but they’re usually smart enough not to do that around me.” The hero cocked his head to the side, eyeing the oncoming rampage. “Then again,” he mused, firing his Booster Shots into the crowd, with Black Widow adding her own rounds. “Skeets! Crossfire mode!”

“Certainly, sir!” Skeets acknowledged, dropping down and opening fire as an aerial Booster and an on the ground Black Widow caught the Manhunters and Chitauri from the opposite side in an impressive – and lethal – crossfire. As the monsters and robots fell, Skeets ceased fire and zipped over to his master. “All enemies in this area are down, sir.”

“Good work, Skeets,” Booster called as he flew higher to get a look around. After a few seconds of scanning, he flew back down. “I think I know which way to go,” he informed Black Widow.

“Then lead the way, Mr. Gold,” Black Widow replied, gesturing for her fellow hero to take the lead. “Let’s not keep the others waiting, shall we?”

Booster cast her an amused look as he led the way. “Still suspicious, Miss Widow?”

Widow inclined her head in acknowledgement of the tit for tat. “Occupational hazard,” she remarked. “Trusting easily gets you killed in my line of work.”

“But if we don’t trust each other, then things are going to get a whole lot worse,” Booster argued back. “Skeets, how much time do we have left?”

“Two hours and counting, sir,” Skeets reported briskly. He dropped down to hover between the two. “Booster is correct; trust is the only way this can work, ma’am. It is not a one-way street, I assure you.”

“Ignore him,” Booster refuted, waving the little ‘bot off. “ _I_ trust you, Widow, just like I trust my sis in the archer’s outfit with the slick bow.”

Natasha Romanoff considered that argument. “I’ll think about it,” she decided. “Now, are you going to get moving or not?”

* * * * *

Hordes of Chitauri and masses of Manhunters meant it took another hour for the two teams to meet up in the center of the maze. Every last one of them was getting a bit ragged and worn, but none of them were backing down. On the contrary, all of them were _determined_ to show Loki that his tactics were _not_ going to work and that they could take situations _ten_ times worse than this without breaking a sweat.

* * * * *

Loki scowled to himself as he watched the two teams progress towards their goal. Somehow, they had, to a large degree, avoided the infighting he had expected, even _encouraged_. And yet, enough of their _true_ selves remained that, once the initial suspicion had been overcome, they’d fallen right into watching each other’s backs and working together, just as they’d always done.

He looked up at the clock, then to the side at his _other_ guests, smirking at the looks on their faces. Even so, _he_ was still the one in control, the one with power and authority. A group of Muggles and Mudbloods couldn’t change that, not now, not at the very _moment_ of his triumph.

“Fight on, little Muggles,” he murmured at the image of the maze and its occupants. “You shall not succeed, I vow it.”


	6. One Way Trip

In the center of the maze, there was a small, glowing portal with a sign driven into the ground next to it. Coulson knelt, reading the sign over and frowning to himself. “ ‘United, yet divided; united in purpose, divided in origin,’ ” he read aloud, glancing over his shoulder at the two teams, still wary, but standing closer to each other than before.

“One obstacle from each world,” Clint drawled, leaning against the nearby wall and counting up her remaining arrows. “What kind, does it say?”

“It doesn’t _say_ anything,” Scott replied, even as he pointed to a symbol right above the note. “But _that_ is a hieroglyph for ‘computer’, at least as close as that language can come to ‘computer’. I suspect that means that the two obstacles are computer based.”

“Stark, you’re up,” Captain America decided. Glancing up at Mister Miracle, he questioned, “Who’s your best computer guy?”

Blue Beetle waved, moving over to join Iron Man. “That’s me, unless Booster wants to let Skeets take a crack at this.”

“Nah, you’re better ‘n Skeets at this kinda thing, Beetle,” Booster called, tossing his best friend a thumbs up.

Beetle grinned right back, restraining his gulp as he and Iron Man faced the portal. The fate of a room full of civilians…in the hands of two computer geeks. _We’re doomed._

* * * * *

Tony Stark laughed as soon as he got a good look at the computer defense from the Avengers world. “I could crack this in my sleep,” he snorted derisively. “JARVIS, start the hack from the other end; I’ll handle the beginning and middle right here.” Glancing over at his counterpart, he asked, “So, how’s it look on your end, Beetle Boy?”

“Looks like a Irons pain in the butt special,” Blue Beetle retorted, a touch sore over Stark’s chosen nickname for him. “I can crack it, but it’s going to take awhile.” The Beetle’s hands flew over the computer keyboard, the inventor, tinkerer, and genius frowning as he worked as fast as he could, muttering under his breath as he started his own hack.

* * * * *

Tony whistled to himself as he finished bringing down the Avenger ‘verse firewall. “Piece of cake,” he remarked. “Actually, even easier than that.” Which was true…between JARVIS and his own considerable experience, it had been a simple task, but somehow, it had gone even _faster_ with a nudge here and a whisper there that Tony suspected came from whoever had donned the Iron Man costume before ‘Loki’ tossed his Halloween spell thing. He also suspected that the Blue Beetle _hadn’t_ gotten the same little nudges he had; Beetle Boy was still pounding away at his keyboard, looking increasingly worried and unnerved.

Ordinarily, Stark would have been mocking and haughty, and might have even tried to step in, but, with the clock running down and a number of innocent lives on the line, he didn’t utter so much as a peep. “JARVIS, any chance you can help out the Beetled One?” he asked, keeping his voice down.

“I apologize, sir, but the firewall appears to be of such a different origin that I cannot offer any advice or aid whatsoever.”

“Time left, J.”

“Nine minutes and counting, sir.”

Without looking up, Beetle snapped, “Shut up, Irons; I’m trying to concentrate here.”

Iron Man was about to volley right back when the portal gave a shudder and began to slowly fold in on itself. “J?” he demanded loudly.

“The portal will close in 56 seconds, sir. I suspect Loki is attempting to stack the deck, as they say.”

“Go,” Beetle ordered, his hands still flying over the keyboard. “I’ll get this done, Irons; just tell Booster I’m sorry.”

“We stick together, kid,” Tony growled, feeling, inside, his ‘host’ struggling to come through. “I’m not leaving you behind, Blue Boy.” And then, before he could even _think_ about it, another sentence slipped out. “Besides, your dad would kill me if I came back without you.”

Beetle’s head snapped up, meeting Iron Man’s impassive gaze, though behind the mask, Tony’s eyes were just as wide as the kid’s. “It’s breaking…it’s really breaking,” Beetle breathed, redoubling his efforts, a grin breaking out on his face as his fingers flew at near lightspeed.

“Seventeen seconds, sir,” JARVIS announced solemnly.

“Come on, kid,” Tony whispered, watching as his young counterpart typed furiously.

“Got it!” Beetle yelled, darting away from the keyboard. “Let’s get out of here!”

Iron Man lunged, snatching the Blue Beetle up and hurtling for the closing portal. The two heroes hit the portal in the instant before it collapsed in on itself. Behind them, the computer whined as the instructions JARVIS had left behind took effect, releasing both spells in a cascade effect that destroyed the computer as well as the entire room. Fire roared for a split second, then went out, robbed of oxygen.

* * * * *

Far away, in his observation room, Loki howled denial. How could they have managed this? _How_ could they have beaten him? _Him?_ The God of Mischief and Trickery? His eyes narrowed in fury. They might have broken the two spells, setting in motion the magic to free the pathetic hall full of Muggles – and themselves – but they had yet to escape his maze…and he had _quite_ the surprise for them…once he finished sabotaging the portal bringing the two computer techs back to their own.

“You will _regret_ crossing me, Muggles,” he hissed as he pulled his wand and began a new spell, the Latin flowing easily as a truly _delicious_ spell came to him. He’d never encountered it before, but it worked _just_ as he intended it to, drawing a smug smirk.

* * * * *

Tony sucked in a breath as the portal writhed beneath them, flexing and twisting as they fell through it. In the portal’s light he saw his own tower, saw a non-descript building with an aircraft on the roof that the locals all avoided, saw a small firehouse with a Ghostbuster’s sign hanging just outside, and so much more. Everywhere he looked, he saw glimpses of worlds, some large, some small, some so similar that just a single, tiny difference separated them, and some so wildly different that he was left wondering what held them all together.

“It’s a portal between worlds,” Blue Beetle gasped, his eyes wide behind his cat-like goggles. “We’re _seeing_ all the worlds out there, Irons. But where’s _our_ world?”

That was a very good question, because Tony wasn’t seeing their combined team or the ballroom full of statues in any of the glimpses they were getting. “JARVIS?” he called. “Little help here?”

“I’…sorry….n…connec…ir…trans…ailing…”

Tony felt a chill up his back. “JARVIS? Come on, J, don’t do this to me,” he begged.

A roar filled the air, full of power and promise. A lion’s roar, echoing in a place where there were only two humans, ringing in the space between worlds. And with that roar, the portal’s writhing stopped. They were still falling, but now the portal had firmed, its twisting blue light steady around them. Tony’s grip on the kid tightened as new memories surfaced and a name whispered in his ear. _Clark Lane._

“Hang tight, Clark, we’re almost there,” he yelled over the noise of the portal.

“Spike?” Quavering, fearful, but still mostly the Blue Beetle.

“I got you, buddy, I got you,” Tony/Spike reassured the young man. “We’re going home and then your dad can kill both of us.”

A moment later, the portal threw them out, its final force wrenching the pair apart. Spike, landing on Lou in his War Machine suit, decided it was fitting that Ed threw himself to the side and caught his son, eyes wide under Mister Miracle’s gold and red mask.


	7. A Promise

As Spike/Iron Man rolled off Lou/War Machine, the group was caught halfway between themselves and their costume alter-egos. Ed/Mister Miracle blew out a breath as he let Clark/Blue Beetle down and looked around at his teammates. “Okay, let’s get out of here,” he declared firmly. “We can talk later.”

“Copy that,” Wordy/Captain America agreed, hefting his shield. “We might want to stick to our superhero names for now, though.”

“Works for me,” Sam/Thor rumbled, “I think I’m stuck more on the Thor side anyway.” He spun Mjolnir without thinking, frowning as he added, “Something…is wrong…this place feels different.”

“I feel it too,” Lance/Booster Gold remarked, pushing himself to the fore, ignoring Greg/Max’s attempt to haul him back. “It’s like this maze is some kind of construct and it’s coming apart.”

“Coming apart at the seams,” Alanna/Clint whispered, fingering her bow and wishing she could think of a spell to get them away safely.

“Then we _need_ to get out of here,” Jules/Black Widow concluded. “Anyone have any idea where the exit is?”

Skeets dropped down from his lofty position. “I believe I do,” he reported. “There is a high concentration of energy similar to the recently closed portal in this location to the southeast.”

“Skeets, take the lead,” Booster ordered, bringing both gauntlets up, his eyes narrowing under his goggles.

“But sir!” Skeets cried, realizing immediately that Booster intended to take the rearguard.

“Don’t you ‘but sir’, me, Skeets. I’ve got a force field, I’ll be _fine_.”

Mjolnir spun faster as Thor stepped up next to him. “Nor will you be alone,” he rumbled, before wincing. “Ugh. At least I figured out the hammer thing.”

Skeets led the way, moving as fast as the Avengers and Leaguers could keep up, determined to get them out before the problem he was detecting arrived.

“Sir,” JARVIS announced, “I am detecting a high volume of lava headed in our direction. It will reach us in ten seconds.”

Spike bit back a string of swear words. “Lava, guys! It’s gonna beat us to the portal!”

“No, it’s not,” Booster countered from behind. “It’s coming up on our rear and I got it!” An instant later, Booster raised his force field, the lava sizzling as it struck the barrier. Booster grimaced in concentration, adding his magic to the barrier and trying to force the lava back, just to buy a few seconds more for the team.

Thor let out a shout, bringing Mjolnir down in a slam that shook the maze. A storm rose around them, lashing out at the lava and forcing it back and away from the heroes that scrambled for their last remaining exit.

Skeets spun around as he reached the portal. “This will lead out,” he cried. “If nothing else, it will get us away from this place before it completely collapses.”

“Stark, Rhodes, secure the other side,” Cap ordered crisply, right before he cringed. “Um…sorry, Sarge.”

“Worry about that later, Wordy,” Greg chided, nodding to the bomb tech and the less lethal specialist. They vanished through the portal. “Go; I’m waiting for Sam and Lance.”

“You got it, Sarge,” Wordy acknowledged, hauling Black Widow and Blue Beetle through before they could argue. Ed followed right on their heels, tossing his Sergeant a quick salute.

“Now you, sweetheart,” Greg murmured to his niece. “I’ll be along with your brother soon.”

Alanna shook her head as she nocked an arrow. “Trust me, Uncle Greg; I’ve got this.”

A howl brought the pair around and Clint let her arrow fly…right into the Chitauri’s eye. Her hand flew back, pulling another arrow and nocking it in a blur; she loosed, smirking as the small EMP arrow hit the Manhunter. Glancing back, she saw Booster and Thor fighting backwards, holding the lava off as they moved towards the portal.

“Skeets, with us,” she ordered, grabbing Coulson by the arm. The little ‘bot bobbed once and followed the pair through the portal. On the other side, Alanna dragged her uncle away from the twisting, whirling blue portal in midair. “Come on, brother mine,” she whispered, looking back at the portal.

The portal whirled and flexed, going wider, shrinking down, then abruptly a whine came from it. Just as it winked out, Thor and Booster were thrown backwards out of it, both of them completely out of control as they flew. War Machine darted skyward, catching Booster, while Miracle’s aero-discs gave a whine of their own as he surged up and sideways to snatch Thor.

Around them, the hall was still filled with statues, but already magic was flowing over them, murmuring and leaving living flesh in its wake. Even so, there were no witnesses to see a furious Loki howl indignation as he dropped into the largest of the clear areas, sending a bolt of magic at Blue Beetle; as the boy dropped, Ed roared and launched himself at the angry wizard, landing an uppercut before Loki’s magic flared outwards, throwing Miracle backwards. Cap pushed off the ground, flying over several dancing statues to grab his best friend out of midair as Black Widow and Hawkeye kept Loki busy with their guns and arrows, respectively.

Thor let out a bellow of his own; the two snipers halted fire as the Odinson came down on Loki, Mjolnir flashing and slamming down on Loki’s magical barrier. A _boom_ echoed through the hall, then Loki smirked and gestured with his wand; Thor was hurled backwards and had to be caught by Iron Man. War Machine jetted past the pair and opened fire himself on the smug wizard, followed by Booster, who ducked under Loki’s return spellfire and landed hits with his Booster Shots; Loki staggered under the twin assault, a snarl on his face.

“You think to best _me_ , you little Mudblood?” he demanded.

Lance howled with laughter as he ducked and wove around Loki’s spells. “Oh, wow, _that’s_ rich…and original…really, seriously, don’t you bigots ever come up with anything _new_? So, tell me, oh ‘exalted’ one, you a pureblood or a jumped-up half-blood?”

Another snarl greeted Lance’s sneered question. “You _dare_ question one of your betters, Mudblood?”

“Hmmmm…I’m gonna call that jumped-up half-blood,” Lance decided, swooping under another spell. “So, little half-blood, here’s a little tip for ya,” he smirked wider, twisting under a new furious wave of spells. “When calling someone a Muggleborn, you really ought to verify that they are, in fact, a Muggleborn.”

“Hold _still_ , you pathetic little Mudblood!” Loki shrieked.

“ _Another_ original statement from our friend here!” Booster jeered, ducking under the next volley and laughing at the furious Loki. “Hey, Skeets, you gettin’ all this?”

“Certainly, sir,” Skeets acknowledged, zipping around three statues that were getting quite close to reanimating. “I have also located three civilians who are being held in an upper room of this building.”

“Interesting,” Booster mused, deliberately coming to a halt and flicking on his force field. Below him, Loki was almost literally frothing at the mouth as all his spells were absorbed by the force field around the golden hero. “Hey, Lok-ster? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about these civilians Skeets found, would you?”

“It is _no_ concern of _yours_ , _Mudblood!_ ” Loki raged.

“Huh, I’ll mark one that down as ‘absolutely, I know all about them,’ ” Lance decided, pretending to pull out a notepad and write on it. Almost casually, he glanced over and down at Loki. “Oh, and by the way, that’s _pureblood_ to _you_ , half-blood.”

“You _dare_ claim to be pureblood, you insolent little _Mudblood_?” Loki railed.

An instant later, he froze as a gun barrel touched the back of his neck. “Drop the wand,” a cold, angry voice ordered. Swallowing hard, Loki obeyed; he was slammed into the ground a second later and his arms were yanked behind his back, steel cuffs locking in place around his wrists. He thrashed as the cuffs activated, the runes engraved on them blocking his magic.

“You dare cut off my magic, Muggle?” he protested.

A snort from the Muggle. “You can thank the Auror Division for the cuffs, ‘Loki’. And _mio nipote_ would be Lance Calvin, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Calvin, so _shut up_ about _mio nipotes_ being ‘Mudbloods’.” Loki reeled as the boy dropped down and the Muggle on top of him remarked, “I take it ‘Muggleborn’ is far _preferable_ to tech-borns than ‘Mudblood’?”

“Yep,” the youth confirmed. “If Dad had ever caught me or ‘Lanna using _that_ word, he’d have grounded us for the next _century_.” Loki snarled and struggled again, but the Muggle held him down easily as the boy turned towards hovering _thing_ at his elbow. “Skeets, can you show us where the civilians are?”

“Certainly, sir,” the flying Muggle _thing_ replied.

“Wordy, Spike, go with Skeets,” the Muggle on top of Loki ordered. “Lance, you’re staying _here_.” The Muggle shifted, hauling Loki up off the ground. “Lou, keep our friend here under control.”

“Copy that, Boss,” the Muggle in the black and steel suit replied, clomping over and taking Loki from the half-bald Muggle.

“Jules, Sam, I think I’d like a word with His Honor once he gets unpetrified,” the Muggle continued as he strode away from Loki, not even glancing back. “Eddie, how’s Clark?”

* * * * *

Ed forced his hands to stay unclenched; Sophie was going to _kill_ him for letting Clark get hurt, even if Loki _had_ attacked too quickly for him to react. “He’s okay, Boss,” he reported, keeping his eyes on his son. Alanna, on Clark’s left side, had already managed to pull off that family magic gig to heal the injuries Clark had taken from Loki’s magical blast, but Clark was still unconscious.

Clark groaned and his father tucked the teen further under his chin, pulling off the Blue Beetle mask and running a hand through Clark’s hair. “Easy there, buddy,” Ed murmured, “I got you; you’re going to be okay.”

“Dad? What happened?”

Ed bit his lip, not sure how to answer. “What do you remember, Clark?”

Clark put one hand up to his head, thinking a second. “Um, I remember getting a cup of punch and fending off a girl from my class who wanted to dance.”

The team leader blinked; that had been right before the two spells activated. “Okay, son. I guess we’ll have to check you for a concussion, but it’s a long story and most of it’s classified.”

The dark-haired teen frowned at that. “You mean, something _did_ happen, but you can’t tell me because I can’t remember?”

“Something like that,” Ed admitted. “Sorry, sport.”

Clark frowned deeper; he didn’t like it, not one bit, but at least his father hadn’t lied to him or anything like that…he’d been upfront that _something_ had happened, just not with the details. Before he could press his father, Sam and Jules appeared with the Mayor, who looked like he was wringing his hands and sweating buckets. “Sergeant Parker,” he squeaked out as Parker closed in on him, his face angry and set, eyes flashing.

“Did you know?” Parker demanded, his voice low and furious. “Did you know what was going to happen?”

The Mayor shook his head frantically. “He showed up three weeks ago and demanded I invite all of you tonight. If any of you weren’t here, he’d…”

When the man trailed off, Parker leaned in, his expression turning even angrier. Clark swallowed hard at the look on his father’s boss’s face. Around him, his father’s arms were tight and Clark knew his Dad was just as angry as Parker. “If any of us weren’t here, he’d _what_ , Mr. Mayor?” When the Mayor didn’t respond, Parker growled. “Clark was injured by this man, _mio nipotes_ were targeted by this man, your _entire party_ was attacked by this man, both last year _and_ this year, and my _team_ walked into tonight blind. Now, let’s try this again. If any of us weren’t here, he’d _what_ , sir?”

The Mayor licked his lips, but still didn’t reply. Instead, a voice rose from behind all of them. “I’m figuring ‘Loki’ would have done something to His Honor’s wife and kids, Sarge,” Wordy announced, coming into view with three people trailing him and Spike bringing up the rear.

“Daddy!” the little girl cried, throwing herself at the Mayor, followed closely by another little girl. The Mayor knelt, sweeping both children into his arms and beginning to cry.

Clark’s jaw dropped as the Mayor stood up, his two daughters in his arms, and the Mayor’s wife hurried past Sergeant Parker to hug her husband and daughters. Parker’s face had gone from angry to pale, horrified, and stunned. To Wordy, Parker murmured, “What did they see?”

Wordy looked grim and foreboding in his Captain America costume. “Everything,” he replied simply. “We asked them to keep it quiet; even showed the little girls our _other_ badges to back it up.” He sighed heavily. “I think the kids helped with getting them to agree…” At Parker’s arched brow, he smiled wanly. “They saw _everything_ , Sarge.”

Clark blinked at that, wondering what, exactly, the Mayor’s family had seen as Parker moved out of earshot to confer with the rest of Team One. Without thinking, Clark turned to look at Alanna, still crouched next to him and his Dad. He didn’t say anything to her, but he wondered…what was she hiding, what secret did she and her brother have? It was nothing bad, he was sure of that, but what was it?

“Okay, buddy, you ready to get up?” his Dad asked softly. “It’s okay if you aren’t; that was quite a hit you took and your mother’s going to kill me for it.”

Clark snickered at that. “Not your fault, Dad,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, well, Mom’s not going to see it that way, sport.”

“I’ll tell her that, then,” Clark promised, tilting his head back. A spark of _something_ ran through him. “After all, can’t let Booster get into trouble without _me_ along for the ride.”

* * * * *

Team One let out sighs of relief when they reached the quiet and safety of the Wordsworth homestead. Shelley and the girls were spending the night at the Lanes, as the two families had planned, even _before_ the Mayor’s disastrous party invites. Masks and helmets were removed; those who’d been wearing them enjoying the end to the evening’s mess. Tomorrow would undoubtedly bring more questions than the adults could answer, but for tonight, peace finally reigned.

Before the rest of the costumes could be removed, Skeets drifted up from his hiding spot behind Booster’s shoulder and the hero grinned, flashing his trademark thumbs up at the other heroes. Blue Beetle rolled his eyes and thumped Booster’s shoulder, earning chuckles from his fellow Avenger Leaguers. Captain America sighed at the interplay, but was pleased nonetheless with how well the motley crew had meshed. Hawkeye smirked at her brother, eyes dancing while Black Widow’s amusement shone only in her eyes. Iron Man and War Machine traded thumps of their own, identical wicked grins on their faces, and the observing Maxwell Coulson rolled his eyes, wondering all over again how he’d ended up managing this group.

It was only a moment and it faded away just as quickly as it had come, but it held a hint of what could come, what lay in store for the future. As the costumes were removed and Team One reclaimed normalcy, the Skeets model and Captain America’s mask ended up side-by-side. A flash of light ran over Skeets’ visor and the mask’s eyeholes glowed an instant before the light faded.

_Was that the point of all this? A statement?_

**_A promise._ **

 

_~ Fin_


End file.
